


Just Kiss!

by veryoldmuchguard



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Dreams, Fluff, Getting Together, Multi, Pre-Canon, no beta we die like they can't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:33:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28802127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veryoldmuchguard/pseuds/veryoldmuchguard
Summary: "It was two, right?" Quynh whispers urgently, "Both of them? Is such a thing possible?""It was both of them," Andromache confirms, "What are the chances of that? I'm starting to think we're being fucked with."----Two new immortals arise. Andy & Quynh dream.
Relationships: Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Quynh | Noriko, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 56
Kudos: 395





	Just Kiss!

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote a fic based on a post I made on [tumblr](https://veryoldmuchguard.tumblr.com/post/638561356374818816/ok-but-i-cant-stop-thinking-about-andy-quynh) about Andy and Quynh having to witness Joe & Nicky's relationship develop through their dreams.
> 
> This is the first thing I've written in a really long time, so please be kind!

The first dream hits Andy and Quynh like a giant, crashing wave, the sensations intense and overwhelming.

  
It is one of the rare times they have paid out for a bed in an inn. Andromache had quite the time spinning a tale for the innkeeper, of how she and Quynh were actually sisters with different mothers but the same father, and by the end of it the old man was swearing that he could see the resemblance between them. It was always a fun game for them, to come up with the most outlandish reasons as to why they were traveling together, and Andromache nearly always won.

  
They had paid good money for a nice room, with a decent bed, and sunk into it with slow, lazy kisses. It had been an extremely enjoyable and memorable evening for them both. Until the dream.

  
Andromache sees Jerusalem. The dust in the air chokes her throat, men at the walls pressing in at all sides, swords clashing, and then she feels the ghost of a blade in her heart. 

  
Quynh sees a rosary being thumbed carefully, starving forces wearing red crosses, men laying siege to the city- and she feels her guts falling from her stomach as the hot strike of a sword splits it.

  
They both see the men's faces, still and dead beside each other. One man pale and green eyed, face half obscured by a wild beard, the other darker skinned with brown eyes and a head full of tight curls. And then Andy and Quynh jolt awake.

  
Andromache heaves a sigh, falling back onto the sheets, but Quynh is practically buzzing with excitement beside her. More of them. Finally. Life with Andromache gives her everything she could need, but since Lykon, there has been a gap. They could be more, they could have _family_.

  
"It was two, right?" Quynh whispers urgently, "Both of them? Is such a thing possible?"

  
"It was both of them," Andromache confirms, "What are the chances of that? I'm starting to think we're being fucked with."

  
They name them _The Invader_ and _The Defender_ , based on their positions within the war. It will be some time before they come to know their names. Quynh smiles as she remembers the first flashes of Andromache, all those years ago, and how before they came to know each others names, she had always referred to Andromache as _Stubborn_.

  
\---

  
Quynh lurches from her bedroll with a guttural groan, grasping at a phantom pain in her head.

  
"Which one this time?" Andromache asks, her eyes not rising from the fire. The deaths have been pretty constant over the last few days. One kills the other, who rises to kill them back. Andromache would be content to let them kill each other forever, if she and Quynh didn't have to share in those deaths every time they slept. She only hopes the war is enough of a distraction that the new immortals ridiculous death-swapping can go on unnoticed by any potential onlookers.

  
"The invader killed the defender. With a big rock. A _rock!"_ Quynh snaps, gesturing wildly, "We are blessed with two new brothers and yet they just kill each other over and over like _children!_ "

  
"Do children often kill each other with big rocks?" 

  
Quynh rises to her feet, fists clenched, beautiful and furious in the firelight.

  
"Stop killing him, stop killing him, stop _KILLING HIM!_ " she yells at the night sky, switching easily between Ligurian, Arabic and Greek.

  
They are in the wilderness, and Andromache really should scold Quynh for screaming in the middle of the night. Despite her considerable confidence in their abilities, they don't need any attention bought down upon them, but watching her sleep-mussed lover scream at the sky, she can't bring herself to complain.

  
"Which one are you talking to?" Andromache asks, smiling. 

"Whichever fool will listen." Quynh grumbles, dropping to sit beside her wife at the fireside.

  
The dreams don't work that way, they both know. The new immortals are still fresh enough to only grant them flashes of the two men. Sometimes a word or two, but nothing that can be used to communicate, and they certainly can't choose what the men will see of _them_. 

  
It had taken them so much longer to find each other, once they had pieced each other together from the flashes of their dreams. Andromache hopes that these men will not kill each other for the century she took searching for Quynh. The second-hand deaths are getting old already.

  
"It has only been a few days," she says gently, "They will soon tire of killing each other." 

  
"Yes," Qyunh smiles, spreading her hands diplomatically, "and when I meet them, I am going to embrace them both. And then I am going to hit them with a very large rock."

  
Quynh laces their fingers together and presses a kiss to her shoulder, turning her face to watch the embers of the fire float into the dark sky.

  
"I miss Lykon," she whispers.

  
Grief twists in Andromache's gut. So that is it. The men's continued animosity stings her wife so much because they _know_. She and Quynh, they know what it is to be alone. What they could be to each other, all of them. Another chance for family, for friends they might get to _keep_. 

  
She closes her eyes and lets the solid weight of Quynh ground her. Death is a constant companion to them by now, their own and others, but Lykon was different. He was one of _them_ , and showed them that they are not eternal, that it will end. 

  
She squeezes Quynh's hand.

  
"Me too."

  
\---

  
They do not dream of them every night, but the next time the dream comes, it's clearer. 

  
Quynh and Andromache are earning coin by guarding a caravan when the next dream comes, two weeks after the last. It's a pleasant change of pace.

  
Thankfully, in the time between the dreams, they have decided to stop killing each other. The flashes show them snapping at each other, circling one another like dogs in the street, but no weapons, no pain. Both of them are clean of the dirty, blood-soaked clothes they had previously been in, and the invader has shaved, leaving his face bare.

  
Another flash, and they are sitting across from each other at a fire, the tension heavy in the air. 

  
The defender's face, a finger pointed at his own chest, " _Yusuf_ ," he says, slowly. Andy feels _something_ when he speaks, like a heavy resignation.

  
The invader's eyebrows twisted into a frown, a storm in his eyes as if he has just realised that the man he has been killing is also a person with a name. " _Nicolò_ ," he replies.

  
Andy wakes to Quynh tugging gently at her shoulder. Time to trade off the watch.

  
Andromache rises just as Quynh tucks herself down onto the bedroll, pressing a kiss to her wife's temple.

  
"Sweet dreams," Andy says, a hint of a smile on her lips.

  
The next morning, when the job is completed, Quynh is radiant in her joy. Andromache already knows that her wife has decided that _yes_ , these men are family now, whether they like it or not. 

  
"We should go to them. Our brothers," she links their arms together, leaning into Andy's side, "Yusuf and Nicolò."

  
\---

  
They do not go towards Jerusalem, as the war rages too fiercely there. Instead they make a new home in Constantinople. She and Quynh spend good amounts of time standing in view of the landmarks, hoping their new brothers can catch a glimpse in their dreams and see it for the offer it is. _We are here, we will meet you, if you choose to find us._

  
Staying in one place never suited them much, but the quiet domesticity of being able to just _be_ with Quynh dulls Andromache's impatience. They take minor jobs around the city, careful not to draw too much attention to themselves. Months pass in a sweet, steady pace, they may not be able to live like this forever- but they cherish it while they can.

  
The dreams continue, and they learn the two men piece by piece. Yusuf hums to himself while they walk. Nicolò chews his lip when he's thinking. They are starting to fight alongside each other, but it's still clumsy and unpolished.   
The sensation of seeing and feeling both of them at once isn't always easy, sometimes it's very like being cross-eyed, but Andromache and Quynh learn how to tell who is feeling what. Nicolò's guilt about the war is a cold, metallic feeling, low in the gut. Yusuf's feeling of loss flutters in the chest, like a wounded bird in his ribcage. The emotions are fleeting, but intense, like running a hand over a flame.

  
The men die a few times, and that's always irritating to Andy and Quynh, having woken with the fleeting feeling of an arrow through the heart, a blade in the back, and one time, lungs burning with smoke from a building on fire. 

  
"They're too reckless," Quynh grumbles.

  
"They don't know it ends." Andromache reminds her.

  
Five years, Quynh and Andy had agreed. Five years in this place, and if their brothers still haven't sought them out, they will go to them. If not to stay with them, then at least to meet them. The dreams are an ever-present reminder that there's no real privacy between them any more, and they'd like that back.

  
"They might not realise that we're real," Quynh shrugs one day as she quietly folds their sheets, "I didn't think you were a real person for the first ten years."

  
Andromache gives a little laugh, looking up from where she is mending a tear in her sleeve, "You just thought you'd invented me."

  
"Of course! Why would I not think that the beautiful axe-woman in my dreams was _entirely_ a product of my own desire! Did you not think the same?" 

  
"I thought-" Andy began, before pausing.

  
 _I thought my vision of you was finally a gift from whatever gods had cursed me to wander alone for eternity_. She still remembered the hot tears on her face when she had awoken that first time, gasping for breath, a mirror of the woman who had lurched back to life in her dream. From that moment, she'd had a purpose when for countless years she'd had none. _Find her._

  
"I thought I at least ought to find you to stop you getting fucking stabbed all the time." she finishes lamely. Quynh laughs and throws a pillow at her. She knows. Of course she knows.

  
\---

  
A year passes, and the dreams shift subtly. The unease has disappeared between the two men, they find their rhythm together as fighters, and spend their evenings smiling and talking by the fire.

  
One night, Andy watches them share a meal, and certainly _something_ is different. A new feeling, a sort of hesitant, undefined _longing_ hangs between them. She tries to focus as the images change in front of her, to determine which one is the cause of this new emotion. It's a frustrating sensation, being at once with them and _not_ with them. 

  
She sees for a moment through Nicolò's eyes, flickering nervously over the line of Yusuf's throat as he is earnestly telling some amusing story. She feels rough fabric under fingers that are not her own as Nicolò rubs a hand absently over his own heart, as if trying to soothe the new ache there.

  
 _Ah_ , she thinks. But then she is in Yusuf's perspective, as he fondly turns his gaze to Nicolo, having reached the end of his story. Andromache feels how his heart skips a beat as a smile spreads across Nicolò's face. Dying, rising, and now _this_. It seems the new immortals do everything as one.

  
It's sweet. It reminds Andy & Quynh of how they had begun, so many years ago, uncertain, hopeful and needy all at once. They figure that soon, one of the two men will make a move, that their mutual attraction will drive one of them to do something.

  
Another year passes. 

  
The new immortals are making slow progress through cities and deserts. They _might_ be trying to find them, but it's impossible to tell. The mutual aching for each other has not subsided at all, and neither of the men seem to be willing to act on it. They steal glances at each other, and Andy & Quynh are helpless but to watch, experiencing flashes of desperate _yearning_ from each man during every thankless dream. Andromache is struck by how useless this shared bond between the two pairs of immortals is. She wishes she could grasp hold of it and scream _he loves you too, idiot!_

  
Quynh is already awake when Andromache rises after the latest dream, pacing about their small house and tidying here and there, muttering to herself. Andromache sees her pace back and forth from through the doorway, an irritated little frown on her face as she continues her running commentary to herself.

  
"Why _yes_ , Nicolò, I quite agree, Yusuf has _lovely_ lips. Now why don't you _do something_ about it, so I don't have to stare at them night after night!"

  
"I thought you said it was cute," Andy teases, appearing through the doorway to pour herself some water, to rinse the false taste of the desert from her mouth.

  
"It was cute, at first."

  
"And now?" Andromache asks, lifting her cup to her lips.

  
"And now I just wish they'd fuck and be done with it." Quynh shrugs, flicking her dark hair over her shoulder.

  
Andy spits, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and fighting the laughter that bubbled up her throat, "You can't just say shit like that when I'm drinking."

  
Quynh darts close to press a kiss to her nose, flashing her a bright smile, "Too late, besides, you know I'm right. They're just being silly boys about it." 

  
Andy raises an eyebrow, "Care to make it interesting?"

  
Quynh laughs, and the lightness of it is contagious- Andy can already feel a smile spreading across her face, "Between you and those two, my life is _interesting_ enough already. What did you have in mind, my heart?"

  
"A bet. On who will make the first move." 

  
Quynh raises an eyebrow, spinning suddenly on her heel to face her beloved, intrigued, "What do I get if I win?"

  
Andy shrugs, "What do you want?"

  
"A crossbow," Quynh holds up her hands, miming aiming down the sight, "A really _nice_ crossbow."

  
"I _gave_ you a crossbow," Andromache groans, "And you _broke_ it." 

  
"-yeah because it was like two _centuries_ old! And if you win, I will buy you the... the fanciest horse I can find."

  
Andy holds her wife's gaze for a moment, and then they both start to laugh. "Oh well, if it's a _fancy_ horse, then I suppose it will do. I'll even let you pick first."

  
Quynh hums, tapping thoughtfully at her chin, clearly having made her mind up already, but enjoying dragging the moment out. "I pick... Nicolò"

  
Andromache cant help the disgruntled snort that escapes her, "Really? Might as well just buy me that horse now, my love."

  
For an utterly fearless mercenary, capable and deadly in a fight, Quynh has always had a soft spot. She usually picks the underdog to support, saying _well somebody has to believe in them_. This time is no different. Andromache can hardly picture quiet, repressed Nicolò making the first move.

  
The bet means they pay more attention to the dreams, it gives them something to playfully bicker about as they pass the time. Nicolò's fingers linger on Yusuf's wrist, and Quynh is insufferably smug for a few days at his boldness. Yusuf reads Nicolò love poetry in his native tongue, and she and Andromache argue for hours if it counts as making a move if the other person cannot understand a single word you're saying. The tension between the two men simmers, and the women think it must be close to boiling over.

  
ANOTHER year passes.

  
\---

  
They are closing in on their deadline, and Quynh can feel Andromache growing restless. The bet is losing its appeal, as both men seem to remain stubbornly committed to keeping their feelings bottled up. City life is also failing to thrill her love, as she has to hold back on her more adventurous pursuits in order for them to keep their heads down and stay unnoticed.

  
The dreams have been blessedly infrequent lately, mostly just resurfacing when they'd started to forget about them- an insistent reminder that they're not alone in this world. Yusuf and Nicolò have been careful enough not to die recently, so the flashes are mostly mundane, occasionally punctuated by some foolish moment of shared longing. Quynh would feel bad about how much insight they have into the men's lives if she didn't know that it goes both ways, and that their dreams of her and Andromache are certainly more boring in a day-to-day sense, although _infinitely_ more satisfying in the romance department.

  
Quynh has always been good at anticipating her wife's moods, and suggested a trip outside the city. Andromache hadn't voiced any of her impatience, and she loves her for that, but the relief in her eyes had spoken plenty. She'd swept Quynh up in her arms and spun her at the idea.

  
They picked a spot by the river, to camp under the open sky. It's not perfect, Quynh knows, because they have to go back to that same place, with those same dreams, to just wait for time to pass. 

  
But as Quynh laces their fingers together under the stars and presses soft kisses to Andromache's neck, she thinks it's pretty close to perfect.

  
"I think we're just too old," she says, out of the blue the next day while they are swimming in the river.

  
"Well... _yeah_." Andromache replies flatly, flicking water from her fingertips towards the other woman, "But you don't have to _say_ it."

  
"We have no patience for a blossoming romance." Quynh clarifies, dipping backwards in the water and letting her midnight hair fan out behind her.

  
Andromache frowns, "The problem is it's NOT blossoming. If they could just- If they would _just_ -"

  
"Just kiss?" Quynh finishes for her, rising up to face Andy and drifting closer.

  
"Yeah," Andromache says, her eyes lingering on the gentle bow of Quynh's lips, "Just that."

  
Quynh perks up at that, an idea forming in her mind, "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!" Quynh chants in Greek - the men's shared language - and gently slaps the surface of the water with each repetition.

  
Andy laughs, and Quynh continues chanting, raising her eyebrows meaningfully. It's always fun to tease some childishness out of the ancient warrior.

  
With a roll of her eyes, Andy shakes her head and joins.

  
"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!" They repeat together, heedless of the fact that they must look like lunatics to any passer-by. At the culmination of their chanting, they lean in and press their lips together, and when Quynh pulls away, she cheers, spreading her arms and letting herself fall back into the water with a large splash.

  
When she emerges from the river, Andromache is nearly choking with laughter, the weight of her years temporarily lifted.

  
\---

  
The next dream is... a little different. It comes two days after the time in the river, when Andy and Quynh are settled back in their home in Constantinople.

  
Nicolò fumbles and drops his waterskin as he watches Yusuf drink his own, his eyes fixed on his throat. 

  
Yusuf burns his fingers as Nicolò leans over his shoulder to enquire about the fire he's stoking.

  
The tension between the two feels reminds Quynh of a bowstring, if only they'd ever release it. She's still mulling it over when she hears Andy let out a soft breath beside her, stirring awake.

  
"Well, you know," Andromache says slowly, looking down at where Quynh is tucked into her arms, "I think they heard us."

  
Quynh snorts a little laugh, covering her face with her hands.

  
"You think we made it worse?"

  
Quynh shrugs, "Either way, they know now. I want to win this fucking bet. Go get him, Nicolò."

  
"Never," Andromache whispers dramatically, tightening her hold on the younger woman, "Yusuf, suck it up and kiss the priest already."

  
\---

  
A few months later, one of their "little side jobs" goes south, and Andromache dies with three arrows in her back. Thankfully, they're in a cramped alley, and it's night, so at least they won't have to worry about witnesses this time.

  
She grunts as she spasms back to life, tasting her own blood bubbling in her mouth. Their assailants are dead already, Quynh stepping delicately over the two men she has just dispatched to lean down and wipe her sword on the back of Andromache's shirt. From the floor, Andy lets out a low groan of protest.

  
"What?" Quynh asks, all innocent, yanking one of the arrows out as swiftly as she can, "This tunic was already ruined, right?"

  
Andromache smiles into the bloodied dirt. Only Quynh can make her laugh while her lungs are still re-inflating. She knows it's to distract her from the pain. It almost works.

  
"They're going to- _ugh_ -" the last arrow is wrenched free, "they're going to _feel_ that one."

  
"The boys?" 

  
Andromache nods, pushing herself up on her forearms, and then the thought occurs to her and Quynh at the same time.

  
"Wait, is this the first time either of us has died since-"

  
"Hera's fucking _tits_ -"

  
"They don't know!" Quynh leaps to her feet, pacing a few steps back and forth, "Is that it?! They just-"

  
"I bet they haven't even _talked_ about us to each other."

  
A moment of silence, Quynh closes her eyes and lets out an angry breath through her nose, then leans down to offer Andromache her hand.

  
"I would like to revisit my 'hitting them with a big rock' plan."

  
Andromache sighs, taking Quynh's hand and pulling herself heavily to her feet.

  
\---

  
The men huddle together in their inn room, heads close, deep in conversation, and Andy catches a few words here and there, the irritating fogginess of the dream only allowing her snippets of their conversation.

  
" _-the same as us-_ " Nicolò whispers urgently, and she feels his mind reeling, " _-returned!- Andromache-_ " 

  
" _-for years-_ " Yusuf looks at him, wide-eyed, nodding, "- _but **real** \- not only dreams- Constantinople?_ " 

  
" _Quynh-"_ Nicolò's mouth moves fervently, but the dream sees fit to flash to the view from their window, the light from their candle. _Useless shit_ , Andromache thinks.

  
" _\- THE BET?!_ " Yusuf's incredulous voice. The desperate thumping of his heart. More muffled words.

  
The two men appear in her vision again, Nicolò with his head hanging low, blushing furiously. Yusuf running a hand through his curls, shaking his head. At the same moment, their eyes meet, their hands move, fingers slotting together like two pieces of a puzzle, eyes darting to each others lips-

  
Andromache jerks awake, feeling Quynh shudder to wakefulness beside her.

  
Quynh says nothing, simply reaches behind her head, takes her pillow calmly from under her, brings it to her mouth and screams into it.

  
"I hate them both," she declares grandly, when she removes the cloth from her mouth.

  
Andromache laughs, fishing her wife's hand out from where it's twisted in the pillow and squeezing it. "No, you don't."

  
\---

  
Quynh rocks back and forth on her heels. Today must be the day. Andromache places a steadying hand on her shoulder, but she just tilts her head to bump against it. 

  
"It might not be today," her love says softly, "It wasn't yesterday, _and_ we stood for three hours in the rain."

  
The docks are a hive of activity around them, men and women scurrying this way and that, occasionally sparing a glance at the two strangely dressed women stood facing the sea. Most drop their gazes and pick up their paces when they make eye contact with either of them. Quynh snorts. She cares not for the opinions of these short-lived strangers, today she will get two new brothers.

  
And finally rid herself of those irritating dreams that have always scurried across her mind like an itch that she couldn't quite scratch. What her brothers had lacked in common sense they had made up for in enthusiasm to make up for lost time, and her and Andy's dreams had been rather more explicit of late. For the first time, she felt a sympathetic kinship for her brothers having to see her passionate nights with Andromache over the last few years. Her wife didn't mind, but Quynh had absolutely _no_ desire to dream about naked men.

  
As if she could read her thoughts, Andromache smirked, "It'll be nice to finally take a piss without having to worry if it will feature in a dream."

  
Quynh throws her head back and laughs, beginning to bounce on her heels again.

  
Passengers of the last ship to come into port have finally begun to disembark. She purses her lips to see that the first few to step onto the dock are most certainly _not_ Yusuf and Nicolò.

  
Her heart almost stops when she sees them emerge with shaky legs from the ship, Yusuf pulling Nicolò along by the hand, turning over his shoulder to talk to him and gesturing grandly towards the city with his free hand. Quynh sucks in a breath and feels Andromache's hand tighten slightly on her shoulder.

  
"Let them come to us."

  
"That's _boring_ ," she replies, but doesn't move. The men look slightly haggard from their days at sea, walking down the dock with nothing but their blades and a pack slung over each of their shoulders. They haven't spotted them yet. Quynh feels her soul calling out for them.

  
Nicolò stutters to a halt, his eyes enormous. Yusuf turns to him, his mouth moving, head tilted questioningly. Nicolò raises a finger to point at where she and Andromache are waiting, his mouth hanging open. Yusuf follows his gaze and blinks incredulously.

  
Andromache sighs, a deep satisfied sound, and then Quynh is running down the docks, her face feeling like it might split from smiling.

  
"My brothers!" she cries in Greek, barrelling towards the bewildered men. They both briefly flinch under her attention, but do not move. As she nears them, she throws her arms wide open. Yusuf smiles that same bright smile she's seen in her dreams, and Nicolò only looks _slightly_ terrified.

  
She catches them both in a hug, feels the solid weight of them against her. Real, at last.

  
Moments later, she hears Andromache behind her.

  
"Nice to meet you." 

  
\---

  
"Really, this is too much." Nicolò says, shoulders slumping slightly at the sight of all the food on the table.

  
"Might as well eat up, we're not going to be staying in the city. We always have a feast before we travel, it's tradition," Andromache shrugs, pouring herself some wine.

  
"We're leaving?" Nicolò asks, seemingly accepting of the fact that from now on, they will be staying together.

  
Andromache places the jug of wine carefully on the table, " _Fuck_ Constantinople," she says firmly.

  
"My love is a wanderer at heart," Quynh explains, returning from the kitchen with a fresh loaf of bread, "We don't usually settle like this."

  
It's a strange sensation, to have the men they have been glimpsing in their dreams for the last few years sitting politely at their table. Quynh could finally see them without feeling that invisible connection, no longer feeling their joys or their pains, the bond that tied them moving to something more solid- family. Though they had only met in body that day, they have known them for years, inside and out.

  
"We were _hoping_ you would get the message a little faster."

  
Yusuf spreads his hands apologetically, "I have always had an active imagination. I didn't think much of the dreams." 

  
"I thought perhaps they had a deeper meaning to them, some symbolism I was failing to understand," Nicolò nods solemnly, "but they will stop now?"

  
"Yes. Now that we have met," Quynh smiles, "Which I am thankful for. I have seen _quite_ enough of both of you in my mind." 

  
She sees the men exchange a look, and for once she isn't privy to whatever emotion they're sharing.

  
"You know we don't care," Andromache says through a mouthful of dates, "that you are lovers?"

  
Nicolò covers his face with both his hands, flushing bright red, Yusuf leans over to rub his shoulder.

  
"We know, it's not that." he says, still looking at Nicolò, "You would be pretty big hypocrites if you _did_ care. Doesn't mean we like having had an audience."

  
"Of course," Nicolò says from between his fingers, "we know that you had no choice in the matter- nor did we."

  
Andromache wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, which breaks the tension, and they descend into laughter and easy conversation.

  
The difficult things will come later. They'll speak of Lykon and his sudden end, the knowledge that every death could be the last, of the loneliness of ages and how they only have each other. But for now, Quynh thinks as she looks across the table, she will just rejoice in the expansion of their little family. 

  
"My new sisters are so cruel," Yusuf says, putting his hand to his heart, his eyes glinting mischievously, "to place a bet on a man's aching heart."

  
"A bet which has yet to be _settled_ ," Quynh says, tapping her knee impatiently, "Come, we _must_ know which of you kissed the other."

  
"You did not see?" Nicolò asks, inclining his head.

  
Andromache shrugs, "You know how it works. We don't get to choose what we see. We think we know _when_ it happened - in the inn in Alexandria?" 

  
Nicolò nods, smiling to himself, pleased that whatever force allowed them to see each other from across the sea had allowed them this small measure of privacy.

  
"If Nicolò kissed you first," Andromache explains to Yusuf, "I must buy my beloved a crossbow to replace the one she so cruelly destroyed-"

  
"-fucking half-rotted piece of shit-"

  
"- and if you kissed him first, I am owed a rather spectacular horse."

  
"So," Quynh leans forward, "who gets their prize?"

  
"Both," says Yusuf at the same time Nicolò says, "Neither."

  
Laughter breaks out across the table, and the two men link hands as one. _Of course._

  
"I have feeling that you two are going to be truly insufferable together," Andromache rolls her eyes, her tone light.

  
"We will have to do better, my love" Quynh responds, leaning over to place a kiss on Andromache's waiting cheek, "and endeavour to be the more insufferable couple."

  
"Shall we make a bet?" Andromache teases, and Quynh hears Yusuf and Nicolò groan as she dips her head to capture her wife's waiting mouth in a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes I added a little scene of Andy & Quynh having a happy memory in a river just to give it a little angst knowing what's coming but- 
> 
> Hope you liked it <3
> 
> Also pre-iron coffin Quynh was a sweetie I will die on this hill.


End file.
